He's still a ways off from talking, but from the look on his face he wasn't terribly impressed."

It started with a trip to San Francisco in search of a
petting zoo. That we managed to do that without actually going to California is
a testament to the beautiful weirdness of the New Orleans area and to the
determination and curiosity of my brilliant wife. For our son Baby T, now mere
days away from his nine-month birthday, our trip started with a crying jag and
ended with a milestone.

In the beginning, our plan was to take the heir out to San
Francisco Plantation in Garyville for
"Frisco Fest"--- a two-day celebration on the grounds there with live music,
food and crafts. Significantly, there were also several Easter-themed events
including the "Krewe of Easter Karnival" for kids. Since our son started his
encounters with New Orleans culture last December with the "Krewe of Jingle",
this seemed like a fun follow-up. If nothing else it gets him in the habit of
expecting a costumed parade for significant holidays.

We got a late start and underestimated the time it would
take us to make the trip, but once we got off the interstate it was more or
less a straight shot down Highway 61. I'd have liked to take the opportunity to
try and educate the baby about Bob Dylan's classic of the same name, but he was
busy having a minor freak-out in the backseat. The drive was just long enough
to try his patience, but too short for him to let himself fall asleep. Pulling
into the gravel parking lot down the hill from the festival, my wife and I were
treated to a full-bore helping of the baby's wrath.

His mood picked up considerably once we got onto the
grounds. There was a rocking boogie band playing in the barn immediately past
the entrance, and after a little initial wariness about the loud noise, the
baby started kicking and wriggling to the beat. Back outside, we wandered
through the rows of craft tables and booths and finally made our way to petting
zoo area.

Much to our disappointment, the Easter Bunny stopped taking
pictures earlier in the day and his krewe had long since finished rolling---
but the petting zoo was still going strong and open for business. Our son took
his time staring down a sweet, docile pony from over the rails and then
reluctantly let us take him into the hay-strewn lot fenced off for the animals.
With tiny chicks and a few little goats scampering around, he zeroed in on two
rabbits hunched close along the edge of the enclosure. He's still a ways off
from talking, but from the look on his face he wasn't terribly impressed.

That may be down to the inclusion of a friendly dog among
the petting zoo animals. The baby is plenty familiar with a (mostly)
domesticated pug already, and may not have thought there was much remarkable
about a few more small furry creatures. In any case, we were out of the city
and enjoying the open air on the plantation grounds--- and in no great hurray
to get back. So our son took his time staring skeptically at the bunnies, the
parrots, and the colorful flags tied around the fence with equal fascination
and detachment.

On the way home to Broadmoor, we stopped at the grocery out
in Metairie where the heir snatched a colorful bag of dried fruit off the
shelves and--- with his fierce and determined grip--- obligated us to buy it.
He let his mother open it for him in the car, and while I was driving along
enjoying the relative peace and quiet, our son casually reached a major
milestone. With his mom looking on, he reached into the bag with his finger and
thumb, pinched a piece of fruit, brought it to his mouth, and chewed it up with
all five of his tiny, crazy-sharp, baby teeth.

A SEAT AT THE TABLE: Already learned to feed himself, ready for whatever's next.Beau Tidwell

Not even nine months old and he's feeding himself in the
car! After a hasty conference with experts (his grandmothers), it was
determined that this is a clear sign of genius and advanced development. My
wife and I were thrilled of course, and not a little stunned. In all
seriousness, somehow this first step toward independence snuck right up
on us, and I for one wasn't prepared for it at all. As I type this, my wife has
just finished putting together the baby's high-chair, so the next time I sit
down for a meal at home I'll be face-to-tiny-face with the heir.

It's an incremental miracle, and one of many we've been
blessed with. With all the anxiety and the agita of being new parents in a new
city, it's exactly those small, revolutionary moments that remind us what it's
all been for. We didn't just move to New Orleans for the food or for the music,
we did it to have the time and the space to watch our son grow up, in tiny baby
steps. And I'm glad we did.

Stay tuned for next week and the heir's second attempt to
see some Indians, and his parents' first St. Patrick's day as responsible
adults!